


Finding Forever

by Melusine6619



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ardor in August, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine6619/pseuds/Melusine6619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elladan encounters Legolas at the waterfall and realizes the one he needs most has always been right before his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This was a response to an open pinch hit request, which turned out to be one of several gifts for J_Dav for the 2009 Ardor in August.
> 
> Request:  
> Elladan/Legolas  
> Fluff, happy endings, love, waterfall. PG-13 up to R.  
> NO: death, rape, angst, incest, AU, BDSM
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mae govannen, Elrohir.”

The younger twin turned upon hearing his name and smiled as he saw Legolas approaching him from the direction of Erestor’s office. It had been nearly a year since the prince from Mirkwood had been to Imladris on an errand for his father, and he was happy to see him, for one very good reason.

“Mae govannen, Legolas. You’ve only just arrived?”

Legolas inclined his head slightly. “Yes. I don’t expect to stay long this time either. Perhaps a day or two at most.” He paused and looked around quickly, a hint of a flush staining his cheeks. “I would, however, enjoy some time on the archery field with you and your brother, while I’m here.”

Elrohir hid a smirk. One had only to know Legolas, to have been witness to his eager, besotted stare after Elladan to read into his innocent request for competition from the both of them to understand what he really meant: Was Elladan there as well? “I’d like that,” Elrohir replied, “but I’m afraid my brother is on patrol and won’t be back for another few days.”

“Oh.” 

The Mirkwood prince’s shoulders drooped at hearing the information, and Elrohir felt bad about the ruse he was setting in motion. But only a little. “He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

At that, Legolas brightened a tiny bit. “Well, I think I shall go bathe and rest. It was a long and hot journey.”

“I have a better idea,” Elrohir offered. “Elladan and I know of a pool where you can swim and bathe in privacy.”

Legolas shifted his pack and appeared to think about it. “Are you sure it will be all right? No one will be there?”

“No one,” Elrohir answered. Not yet, at any rate. “Let me give you directions . . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrohir hurried from the steps where he stood watching as Elladan rode into the courtyard a short time later. He smiled to himself, thinking of Legolas, who should now be at the pool. The only thing left was to convince his brother to follow him there, and by the looks of him, it would not take much more than a suggestion. He looked suitably tired after being out for a fortnight, and as Elrohir had anticipated, hot. 

“You look as if you’ve been forging swords, brother,” Elrohir greeted him.

“I feel it too,” Elladan replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “It’s hot as Sauron’s balls.” 

“I’ll take your word for it. But you do look as if you need to cool off. Why don’t you have a swim at the waterfall?”

Elladan ran a hand through his damp hair. “I think I will, as soon as I’ve made my report to Father. Will you join me?”

“No, no, there’s something I must attend to instead. But don’t let that stop you. You go on. Enjoy yourself. Perhaps I’ll join you later.” Elrohir stopped rambling lest Elladan become suspicious. He already appeared on the verge of it, he was eyeing him so intently.

“All right then. I will see you later on.” Elladan clapped him on the shoulder and turned to hurry into the house.

He waited until Elladan disappeared inside before turning himself to find a suitable place out of sight to wait for his return. His brother was rather clueless when it came to affairs of the heart, but if Elrohir had his way that was about to change. 

Elladan may not have noticed Legolas’ regard, but Elrohir had. And he had seen something else too, and that was his brother’s infatuation with the Mirkwood Elf. He hid it well, or perhaps he was unaware of it himself, but Elrohir had watched him watching Legolas long enough to know. He was surprised that neither had caught the other’s hungry gaze, but they were both beyond obtuse it seemed, and frankly, Elrohir had had enough of that. His brother was lonely. Elrohir could see it in his eyes. Could feel it in his own soul whenever the emptiness pressed upon his brother in the quiet moments when there was nothing to do but think. But it need not be that way. There was one for him, and that one just happened to be Legolas Thranduilion. Elladan just needed a push in the right direction. Which Elrohir was ready to provide now that an opportunity had so neatly presented itself.

At last Elladan emerged from the house and began making his way to the falls, and stealthily, Elrohir followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan rounded a boulder and drew to a halt, his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes caught sight of the Elf swimming in the pool below him. He moved another step closer just in time to see the other dive, his long legs flashing, and taut buttocks raised to the sky for the briefest pause. Wet golden hair hung in tendrils down an alabaster back when he broke the surface. Elladan swallowed hard at the sight.

Legolas sensed the presence of another and turned his head, his gaze quickly finding the dark-haired figure who now approached. His heartbeat quickened in reaction and his soul danced with joy as it did each time the other Elf was near. 

Elladan. 

The one he had thought of since their first meeting long ago. The one who had snared his heart even then. 

Even then. Legolas remembered that day as he did no other. He had been a young messenger, full of wonderment at the hidden vale, so different from his own woodland home. Even the house itself delighted him, and so he had begun exploring the corridors after taking his leave of Lord Elrond after the evening meal. He had no idea where he was when suddenly up ahead a door had burst open and an ellon wearing only a bed sheet rushed out. A shoe sailed out after him. 

“ . . . And don’t come back!”

Legolas was so surprised he could not move and found himself knocked to the floor by a body slightly heavier than he would have expected of any Elf. He lay there bemused, wondering what had just happened. He had never been caught off guard before. 

The other shifted and peered down at him. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t see you there.”

He was the comeliest ellon Legolas had ever seen. Thick, dark hair spilled around his bare shoulders and downward. Sculpted features and a straight nose were softened by arched brows over warm gray eyes and a generous mouth that now quirked into a smile. Legolas could only stare as the other male’s gaze ran over him. A strong hand caught his jaw, for a moment and then fingertips pulled his eyelid up. The other peered intently into his eye.

Legolas pushed at him in embarrassment. “What are you doing?”

“Checking you for concussion,” the other male answered. “You seemed dazed there for a moment.”

“I’m well, I assure you,” Legolas muttered. And he was, except for the dizzying speed with which his heart had begun to race. He ignored the offered hand as the other stood and rose to his own feet unaided. Shaking hands smoothed his tunic. “I’m fine.”

And he was well, that much was true, but not unaltered, for he knew, in that brief encounter, that he had just met his soul’s mate. 

That had been a century ago and in that time he had never got up the nerve to say anything. How could he? Elladan was so far above him in ancestry and rank, in spite of his being a king’s son, that Legolas could only watch him covertly when he was in Imladris on an errand, could only yearn for him in the middle of the night in the darkness of his own quarters. Which he did, on many occasions. 

He turned now and glanced to his neatly folded clothing on a rock near the bank. There was no way to reach the bundle without exposing himself to Elladan. Legolas closed his eyes, his thoughts straying to Elrohir long enough to picture thrashing the younger twin, before his attention was caught again by the commanding presence of the one who stood before him. He silently entreated Elladan to leave. The last thing he needed was the other Elf discovering his attraction for him and the usual, rampant, evidence of it. 

Elladan did not leave. Legolas watched him nervously as he approached. He was as tall and broad-shouldered as Legolas remembered, and twice as handsome. He was dressed in a dark gray cloak over tunic and trousers of the same hue, wrinkled by wear, and tall mud-covered boots. 

“Hello, Elladan,” he greeted, as calmly as his racing pulse would allow.

Elladan smiled in answer. There were few outside his family who could tell him from his brother, even fewer outside Imladris who could do so. That often vexed him for all his closeness to Elrohir. He wanted to be known and loved for himself, separately. 

But Legolas had always seemed to know them from one another. As far as Elladan was concerned, that was a rare gift indeed, and one to be held precious. 

He had noticed Legolas, of course, for he was hard to ignore. Not that he drew attention by outrageous behavior, by any means, for he was always the picture of decorum. The Mirkwood Elf was comely beyond compare, for one thing, and for another, he had an insatiable curiosity of the world around him. Elladan had enjoyed getting to know him. 

He had, on occasion, thought of wooing him to his bed, but he had always stopped himself. Somehow he could not bear the thought of discovering, as he had so often in the past, that this ellon was not the one for him.

He could not count the failed relationships, the brief, meaningless encounters over the centuries that had left him unfulfilled. Some called him promiscuous, but they did not understand that he was always searching for the one that would complete him. And always coming away empty-handed. The thought of an endless life without a deep, soul-binding love had begun to gnaw at him so much that he was tempted to choose the path of Men rather than face an eternity of loneliness. 

Now, as he stood watching Legolas in the pool, his smile faded, his fëa jolted to awareness, and Elladan knew. Here was the one for him. The sudden rush of feeling left him slightly breathless, and he wondered why he had not seen until this instant. Perhaps he had not wanted to see, but none of that seemed to matter now. There was only Legolas here before him and he might not have another chance to discern the archer’s feelings. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked casually, stripping off his shirt.

Blue eyes flew to Elladan’s bared torso and widened. Legolas began to imagine touching the firmly sculpted muscles, tasting the skin over them . . .

“Legolas?”

He jerked as Elladan called his name, startling him back to the present, and moved toward the further end, hoping to hide the proof of his desire for this dark-haired warrior in the deeper water. “It’s your pool.”

He glanced back as he spoke and wished instead that he had remained turned the other way as Elladan had just divested himself of his leggings and had begun to wade in. Legolas’ eyes disobeyed his fervent order to remain fixed upon Elladan’s face and dipped lower. His body reacted with its typical enthusiasm to the sight of Elladan in all his glory, and with a harsh groan he turned and dove beneath the surface of the water again, wishing that it was colder than it was, that he had not followed Elrohir’s urging and come to the waterfalls.

The splash of feet in water alerted him that Elladan was now in the pool with him, but this time Legolas managed not to look until the other Elf began to splash about. He chanced another peek then and was surprised to see Elladan’s head pop up not far from where he was swimming.

“There’s nothing like a swim after a fortnight’s patrol to relax the mind and body,” Elladan observed.

Legolas was not certain he agreed at the moment. He was as far from relaxed as he could possibly be as he studied the water as if fascinated by it. Elladan’s voice interrupted his discomfited musings. 

“How long will you be in Imladris?”

“Only a few days,” Legolas answered.

“That’s too bad.”

Legolas glanced up to find Elladan watching him intently. He nodded, his tongue darting out again to moisten his lips. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I . . .” Elladan silently cursing himself for this heretofore unknown bout of nerves. Why was it suddenly so difficult to reach out, take what he wanted? He was usually confident both in the bedroom and out, but now his brain sent trite words to his tongue, and his body held still as if terrified of making a false move.

Legolas sensed Elladan’s discomfort and wondered at the cause of it with some dismay. Had he done or said anything offensive? He quickly replayed his every move and word and decided, no, he had not. What then? 

He raised his eyes again. Elladan watched him still with an expression both hungry and possessive, yet filled with tenderness and longing, and Legolas’ heart began to beat even faster as understanding dawned. Elladan wanted him as much as Legolas wanted Elladan. But to his frustration Elladan merely continued treading water, strong arms moving back and forth, back and forth. 

“FOR VALAR’S SAKE, JUST KISS HIM!” 

“What the . . . Elrohir--!”

Elladan’s curse was cut off by lips molding themselves over his. Sweet. Warm. Delicious. Home. The words danced through Elladan’s mind before he lost concentration and his need took over, nudging him into action at last. His arms came about the Legolas’ more slender frame and drew him closer still. 

Legolas’ hard length brushed against his own a moment before lithe legs wrapped about his torso. His hands explored Legolas’ back, tangled in his hair. Slanting his mouth over Legolas’, Elladan sent his tongue questing along the seam of his lips and was granted immediate entry as they sank beneath the water.

Gasping for breath, they kicked to the surface and swam for the shore. Elladan stood and hauled Legolas to his feet and together they moved to their piles of clothing. 

“ELROHIR YOU HAD BETTER BE OUT ON PATROL BY THE TIME I GET HOME!” 

Those were the last words Elladan was able to toss at his twin before once again Legolas grabbed him and drew him close. They stood twined together, dripping wet, but neither one noticed nor cared as their mouths mated and their hands explored. 

At last Elladan pulled away, leaving Legolas to stare after him mutely as he spread his cloak on the ground. Eyes dark with lust, he turned and beckoned Legolas to lie down, but the archer was already moving to do so. Elladan growled appreciatively at the sight of Legolas sprawled upon the cloak, his skin flushed, his lips parted and red from kisses. 

*His.*

But wait . . . was he?

Legolas reached to draw Elladan down atop him, his hand stilled by Elladan’s fierce expression. 

“Are you promised to anyone?” Elladan’s voice was harsher than he meant it to be.

“No. There is no one.” Legolas emphasized his answer with a shake of his head. 

Elladan released the breath he had been holding and stretched out beside Legolas on the cloak. “Good,” he whispered, his strong hands pulling Legolas close. “Because I have waited for you for far too long, and I want you for myself.”

Before Legolas could reply either way, Elladan pushed him gently to his back and rose above him, staring down into eyes made dark with lust. He dipped his head, his lips finding Legolas’ unerringly while one hand moved to explore the archer’s trim form. Legolas trembled and arched into the touch, soft moans escaping him when Elladan’s mouth reluctantly left his to nip and suckle on silken, heated skin.

By the time he reached Legolas’ erection, the archer’s hands in his hair, Elladan was ready to plunge into the warm and willing body beneath him. But he held back and focused on showering Legolas with as much pleasure as he could withstand. Elladan let his tongue tease along Legolas’ length before he paused, his eyes meeting his lover’s with a mischievous twinkle.

“Please, Elladan.” 

Elladan grinned before closing his lips around Legolas’ shaft and engulfing him to the root. Legolas’ loud cry of ecstasy went straight to Elladan’s groin, but he did not allow himself to be distracted by his own need. 

Elladan lapped and suckled the firm flesh offered to him, drawing him deep again and again, until Legolas moaned his name and spent hot seed down his throat. Elladan swallowed the last creamy drops and raised his head to look at Legolas. The archer’s head was thrown back, his hair splayed wildly about him, while his hands clutched desperately at the cloak as if that alone anchored him to the ground.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Legolas moved his head to gaze at Elladan. “Make me yours.”

“Soon,” Elladan answered. “Soon.”

He bent his head again to Legolas’ now softened length while his hands moved to urge the archer’s thighs apart. Legolas complied eagerly, only gasping in surprise when Elladan’s tongue found his entrance and then in apparent discomfort as a finger gently invaded shortly after. Elladan felt Legolas tense around him and paused, raising his head to watch Legolas, his gaze tender, a question in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Legolas whispered. “I’ve never been the sheath before.”

“Relax,” Elladan softly urged. “Open for me.”

To his great joy the tension seemed to flow out of Legolas’ body, and he did relax, making Elladan’s preparation of him easier for them both. 

When Legolas began moving with him, the dark-haired warrior eased his hand away and lifted the archer’s thighs atop his own. He entered Legolas slowly, carefully, his hands stroking Legolas’ thighs and abdomen, soothing him, as he whispered praises. After a moment he began to rock back and forth, his movements slow and shallow.

“Elladan?”

“Yes, meleth?”

Legolas’ breath caught at the word. Did Elladan truly mean it, or was it simply the heat of their joining that caused the endearment to fall from unwitting lips? But Elladan changed the angle of his thrusts just then and Legolas’ world narrowed to the pleasurable feeling his lover had invoked, and he could not think, could only feel and beg for more.

Elladan smiled and continued to move against that spot until Legolas had braced his feet on the ground and met him thrust for thrust. He did not realize that he had voiced his sudden feelings, all he knew was that this was right, this was home. Tenderness, joy, lust, love, all enveloped him, searing this day into his soul for all time. Elladan had been ready to accept only once when this began, but he knew now that it would never be enough. He wanted more.

He reached between them, caught Legolas’ renewed erection, and began to pump in time with his thrusts, wanting to feel Legolas’ body tighten and tremble, wanting to hear his cries of release. Needing them like air. Another thrust, another stroke, and Legolas was once again shouting Elladan’s name towards the heavens. 

Elladan let go then, throwing his head back as waves of pleasure pummeled him until he fell boneless atop his lover.

It was some time before Elladan felt he could speak again, let alone move, but as he shifted off and to the side of Legolas, he tried to put his feelings into words. “Legolas . . . could you . . . would you . . . give me the chance to win your love?”

“But you already have it,” Legolas answered, rolling to face him. “You have from the first time I saw you, even when I did not know your name. ‘Tis how I’ve always known you from your brother. You look alike, but he doesn’t make my heart sing.”

A light flared in the gray depths of Elladan’s eyes and he drew Legolas close, enfolding him in a tender embrace, his soul filling with peace. He knew that the darkness in the world was growing, but here he had found his light, and no matter what fate had in store for them, he would always be glad he had made the trek to the falls this day.

The day he had found forever. 

The End


End file.
